


the path to earth

by scriveyner (trismegistus)



Series: Voltron Fic Collection [36]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, M/M, frost spirit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-06
Updated: 2018-06-06
Packaged: 2020-06-26 13:35:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19769287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trismegistus/pseuds/scriveyner
Summary: The forces that woke the Princess from her eternal slumber moved with ill intent; there was a darkness slowly poisoning the land, the wildlife, even the people … it was hard to see, at first. Even before Shiro, when he haunted the lonely mountain landscape he could sense the flow of vile, dark magic; but the struggles of mortals had been of little interest to an ephemeral frost spirit born anew every winter.





	the path to earth

At first, they were three.  
  
Lance listened in rapt attention, Shiro’s left arm warm about his side. He was a creature of touch, and Lance was uncertain if that was borne from true affection or the fact that Lance now harbored his soul; but either way he enjoyed the attention. It was not that long ago that being touched was a foreign concept to him, and like the spring sunrises Lance found he could never get quite enough. Shiro brushed his fingers lightly over Lance’s sleeve as he talked, expression distant and eyes on the crackling fire; Lance instead watched his face.

 _The princess of a forgotten land, brought forth from an enchanted sleep._  
  
Allura smiled when Shiro spoke of her; she sat across from the restringing her bow and listening in on the familiar tale. Her hair was loose, a cloud floating freely down her back; Lance knew she would ask his help to braid it anew in the morning. She insisted Lance call her by her given name and not stand on formality, even though Shiro did not. “Too set in his ways,” Allura said with a quirk of her mouth, it was almost a frown.  
  
_A halfbreed, carrying the sword of a King and the blood of a dragon._  
  
Keith shifted, trying to ignore Shiro’s words. He was huddled in his cloak, the bandages a dirty white against his skin. He was mostly healed, now; the hint of a wound scarred over peeked from behind the bandages on his face. Keith was watching Lance, mostly, like he always did when he and Shiro were together around the fire. He didn’t trust Lance, although Lance was unsure as to why. Shiro’s fingers brushed back up his arm and Lance sighed, content. He knew what came next.   
  
_And a lost knight, steward to no king._  
  
Shiro didn’t speak of his past, about the time before he had met Allura and joined them on their quest. He seemed to know Keith prior to that meeting, but Lance wasn’t certain how _he_ knew that, as it had never been spoken of. He touched his hand lightly to his chest as he felt his heart beat in time with Shiro’s own. Keith’s eyes were on him again, hot like irons thrust into the fire, and Lance resisted the urge to make it snow to help cool him down again. Shiro’s arm stiffened over his shoulder and Lance froze, wondering if his magic got away from him again only for Shiro to speak with a note of disapproval in his voice. “ _Keith._ ”  
  
Keith said nothing, and looked away.  
  
“And what next?” Lance said, knowing well what came after but wanting to hear it again in Shiro’s words.  
  
Shiro glanced down at him and smiled, brushing his fingers up to Lance’s jaw and moving his head, tilting him so that he could deliver a brief kiss. The movement thrilled Lance, he felt a shiver escape him at the knowledge that Allura and Keith were both there and could witness this display of affection. “Then we were four,” Shiro murmured, more to Lance directly than narrating as he had before. “Joined by a spirit of winter, given form and flesh.”  
  
Lance lay awake beside Shiro as the fire sputtered to embers in the night. The forces that woke the Princess from her eternal slumber moved with ill intent; there was a darkness slowly poisoning the land, the wildlife, even the people … it was hard to see, at first. Even before Shiro, when he haunted the lonely mountain landscape he could sense the flow of vile, dark magic - but the struggles of mortals had been of little interest to an ephemeral frost spirit born anew every winter.  
  
As they traveled deeper inland the terrain seemed to be imbued with dark magic; the trees cracked and barren and the vegetation sparse and brown. Lance learned as they went, moving far from the thick mountain forest he once called home. His magic was different now; without his staff to focus his will he had to learn the quirks of it all over again, fumbling like a new mage. Occasionally his magic got away from him and dusted the surrounding area with snow, or froze some random vegetation or, as on one memorable occasion, Keith’s trousers.  
  
The ancient city in the southern mountains was far older than than the race of people who inhabited it now, and Lance didn’t understand why the Princess had led them there; they had diverted from a well-worn road to a less-cared for one that took them deep into a canyon where they found small, struggling farms and thin, sallow livestock. The closer to the city walls they got the better things looked at least, the land green and fertile. Allura crouched by the side of the road, her hand cupped over a blossoming flower, white and pink, and there was a soft green glow emanating from its petals that she drew into her hands.  
  
“Here,” Allura said, staring at her cupped palms as the green glow dissipated into the air. She watched the glow fade, her eyes drawn to the ancient city walls hewn from the mountain itself. “They’re here.”  
  
Lance glanced to Shiro questioningly as he sat beside Lance, driving the cart. Shiro was watching the Princess but realized Lance was looking to him and smiled at Lance. “The fifth,” he said, and looked to the city walls as well. “We will find them here.”


End file.
